Love is Watching Someone Die
by Wonderful Wizard
Summary: Set between The Wannabe in the Weeds and The Pain the Heart. Brennan's reaction to Booth being shot... Inspired by What Sarah Said, by Death Cab for Cutie


I hated hospitals; I always had. It was the stinging scent of bleach, I think, that always got to me. Even as a young girl I can remember loathing the feel of a hospital. There was so much death and sadness… Ironic, I know, since my job is nothing but death and often times, sadness, but I suppose it's different when you're watching it unfold around you; it quickly becomes something that one cannot disconnect themselves from.

I often found that I was surprisingly anxious in hospitals, but this time was so much worse than any other time. My stomach was twisting and turning. I wanted nothing more than to lie down and rest, but at the same time my body needed to move. Over the past few hours, I been to the vending machines and back more times than I could count- not that I ever bought anything, much to Angela's dislike (she knew that I hadn't eaten since breakfast this morning).

But I wasn't the only one. Cam paced around the room in circles, occasionally sitting down, but returning to her routine only minutes later. I would occasionally hear Caroline down the hall way, arguing with anyone she could manage to find. Hodgins too, made constant trips to the vending machines. Sometimes for him, sometimes for Angela… He tried to get me to take something but I simply couldn't. I knew that if I ate anything, it would be coming back up sooner or later. Angela fidgeted in her seat, often times trying to distract herself with the television or attempting to comfort me by holding my hand or rubbing my back, but she would eventually give up, as I only continued to cave in on myself.

I found the pattern of the carpet surprisingly distracting, however. The cool colors and the way it looped around made it much easier to focus on than anything else in the room. I would follow the circles and arcs around the room, making mental pictures of it when it disappeared beneath a couch, chair, or table. Suddenly, me pattern was broken by a body standing in front of me. I looked up and found Hodgins looking down at me.

"Dr. B, you need to at least drink something," he told me earnestly, holding out a cold bottle of water from the vending machine. I nodded reluctantly, taking the bottle with a shaky hand and realizing then just how thirsty I truly was.

Hodgins moved back to sit next to Angela. She leaned into him. I heard her whisper "Thank you" to him as she took his hand.

I twisted open the bottle cap and proceeded to sip the water slowly as I watched the couple out of the corner of my eye. It made me feel so much worse.

I wanted so badly to hold him, to protect him, to make sure that he was going to be alright. I had expected to feel some sort of relief in the knowledge that I had killed Pam, that she could never hurt him again. But when I overheard the EMTs mentioning that her death had been quick and nearly painless, I wanted to scream. I wanted to hit and kick and scream (no matter how irrational those actions would have been at that time). I hated how she had gotten off easy as my partner lay bloodied and dyeing in surgery, fighting for his life. I wanted to bring her back just so I could kill her all over again.

And what was worse was that he took that bullet for _me_. He saved _my_ life and if he died while trying to save me, I would never be able to live with myself. To know that I might as well have pulled the trigger myself, at that point, and that I would be the reason that the world would never again experience Seeley Booth, might be more than I could possibly deal with, and still retain even an ounce of my rational composer…

In recollection, I would never quite remember exactly what happened, when that nurse came in. I remember, vaguely her asking if we were with Agent Seeley Booth. Someone answered "Yes" and it was all over. Just like that, my world seemed to crash down around me.

I felt light headed, as the blood rushed away. My stomach churned and I knew I was going to vomit. I stood quickly, the blood rushing away. Angela stood next to me, giving me support. I couldn't breathe, as it felt like my lungs were being crushed. Tears began to well in my eyes and a large lump formed in my throat. I opened my mouth to tell Angela to help me to the restroom, but nothing came out. Yet, somehow she still knew what I was trying to say, and she helped me to the restroom anyway.

I don't think there was anyone inside (not that I really cared much at that point) but she helped me to the sink and I instantly began to splash cold water on my face. Some part of me hoped that the water would cover the tears, but as I let out a sob I knew that that option was gone. I gripped the sink tightly, my knuckles white, as Angela rubbed my back. "Fuck," I mumbled, water running down my face. Then the nausea came back. I turned pushing Angela aside and rushed into a stall. I vomited, once, twice- all of it nothing but the water.

When it was clear there was nothing much left I moved back to the sink and rinsed my mouth out. I then slumped against the tiled wall onto the cold tiled floor. Angela moved next to me and sank down beside me. She wrapped her arms around me and we cried together.

I cried for me, I cried for the world, I cried for Booth, but mostly I cried for my newly found hatred for God. He had given me the best man I had ever known, and had ripped him from me, just like that. But more than that, I cried for my own helpless weakness and how I could do nothing to save him.

I hated my fear of a future without him, in any form. This was what I had been trying to prevent, but it happened anyway. He had been stolen from me, and as much as I hated to admit it, my heart had been ripped from me as well…


End file.
